


Uprising

by jesus, non_nomen



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Found family trope (the best trope), From what I have planned right now they don't even leave earth lmao, Klance (mayhaps) ((def not yet)), M/M, Pidge uses she/her, Trans Female Character, if i do this right it might just be about as gay as i am
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-03-17 02:26:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13649508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesus/pseuds/jesus, https://archiveofourown.org/users/non_nomen/pseuds/non_nomen
Summary: With the knowledge that Galra had made their way to earth in the past, I wondered what it would've been like if we saw more of the Galra on Earth taking some sort of offensive before our heroes could get to the Blue Lion. It will be awhile before all characters listed are introduced and interact, though.





	1. i

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ur mom](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ur+mom).



> This is just the beginning

Abandoned Shack, Antelope Lake, Nevada  
09:18  
June 16th, 2099

Caked with dust, thick with stale air, in the middle of the desert, was a small shack. It’s foundation was a thin layer of cement placed on the sandy ground, walls built up around it by aged and brittle cedar planks. Chipped paint on the windowsills and door look worse for wear, matching a patched and scratched metal roof. A lonesome satellite dish attached to the top. A well kept hoverbike parked on the left side.

Keith is staying inside today. He’ll tell himself it’s because he can feel the heat radiating off the sunlit parts of the floor without even touching them, but in truth he wouldn’t go outside today anyway. Red eyes stare down red thread as it connects papers, winds down to the floor and sits on it’s side. He hasn’t made a breakthrough in weeks. He needs to make a breakthrough. His gut tells him that the Galaxy Garrison is not telling the truth. He doesn’t need the papers on the wall to know. But what is gut tells him is sickening, with implications of something he may not be ready to face. Cosmo 11-07, the spacecraft with the destination of Kerberos, did not make the journey. That part is true. But Keith knows what the Garrison does not want him to.

Cosmo 11-07 never even left the ground. Keith doesn’t need the papers on the wall to know. But he needs the papers on the wall to figure out the rest of the story. To get his brother back. So he’s sat on a rusted and dusted floor, looking for a connection. Another thread.

His former classmates at the Galaxy Garrison Academy would almost unanimously agree that he could solve any puzzle, including the papers in front of him. Though, there would be one person who would bet opposingly.

Lance Mcclain, Keith’s self proclaimed rival who took his place when Keith was expelled due to ‘disciplinary issues.’ Keith didn’t know him. Not very well, at least. He was a good looking (Latino? Keith was guessing.) boy with a loud voice and a louder personality. Lance was a social butterfly. He commanded the room’s attention in a way that Keith wasn’t able to. Not to say that Keith didn’t get attention. People at the Garrison were always focused on Keith. The best pilot trainee, brother to the best pilot officer. Of course people had their eye on him. But Keith didn’t know how to interact with any of them. He’d watch Lance or his friends (Hank? And Paige? Guessing again.) tell a joke and he’d see how well everyone reacted. Keith could never do that. What connection did he have to any of his classmates? Keith, with his poor social skills, didn’t feel the desire to make friends anyways. He focused on studying, he pushed everything else away. Then the Garrison kicked him out after taking his only family from him. He focused on getting Shiro back, and again he pushed everything else away. 

Keith wanted to stretch so badly. But every second that wasn’t spent trying to find Shiro seemed to be a waste. He lifted his legs under the impossible weight of his fatigue and stood lifting his arms up and out as far as he could reach. He never looked away from the papers. 

 

The Galaxy Garrison Institute, Near Amargosa Valley, Nevada  
20:41  
June 16th, 2099

Hunk is an extremely trustworthy friend. If you want something to stay a secret, it’ll stay a secret with him. The real reason Hunk is reliable with secrets is because he likes being in the know. Gossips don’t get told things easily. Although, keeping quiet doesn’t mean he gets told every last tight-lipped matter in the Garrison. But Hunk still wants to be in the know about those things, too. So, if he happens to just, say, overhear a something he wasn’t meant to, or maybe accidentally skim a classified document while it passed his peripheral, it’s out of his hands. But it stays secret.

Hunk isn’t sure he can keep this secret. This is something he must tell someone. But only a select few. Only those as quiet as him.

He doesn’t know anybody like that. So while the three are snuck out on the Garrison’s roof, he tells Lance and Pidge instead.

‘‘Okay.’’ Hunk fiddled with some gravel and looked out at the dark desert below him. ‘’I have something, like, crazy to tell you guys. Like not crazy as in insane asylum, at least I don’t think so, but crazy enough for you guys to not believe me.’’

Lance and Pidge shared a glance then looked back and nodded for Hunk to go on.

“I was going to Iverson’s office to ask for another field trip permission slip- for Lance, just in case he’d lose his like last time- but before I went inside I heard, like, hush-hush ‘we’re hiding something’ voices. Iverson had some guy talking to him about ‘completely confidential matters’ so, naturally, I listened in. I think they were talking about the Kerberos mission.’

Hunk and Lance both turned their attention to Pidge who looked deeply interested. Both already knew about Pidge’s fixation on the mission, though they didn’t know why for.

“Well? What did they say?” Pidge prodded.

“They were talking about falsifying papers about the mission. Stuff about PR,” Hunk said.

“Why would they need to falsi-whatever documents?” Lance asked.

Pidge looked down bitterly. “Because they aren’t telling the truth about the mission. Whatever happened, they don’t want anyone to know,” she tensed and raised her fists as she spoke, “And they don’t care about who they have to hurt to keep it secret.” Pidge pulled a face, shut her eyes tightly, and looked away dejected. “Thank you for telling me, Hunk.” She stood to leave.

“Hey, where are you off to, Pidgey?” Lance called after her.

“I need to find out what they’re hiding. I want to see if I can get any reliable documents before they’re replaced with edited versions.” Pidge turned only to have Lance grab her arm. 

His eyebrows were scrunched together, eyes darting to around to avoid eye contact. He shifted on his feet. “Pidge, you don’t have to do this alone. I know the Kerberos mission bothers you-” Pidge huffed at him.-“But the Garrison assigned us three as a team, alright? Doing things by yourself is a no-go.”

“Yeah, I mean, if you’re going to do something crazy, Lance will too, and then I’ll just follow Lance, so,” Hunk added with a shrug.

“When the Garrison paired us up as a team, I don’t think they intended for us to expose their secrets together.” Pidge gave Lance a guarded stare.

Lance let go of her arm, arched an eyebrow, and crossed his arms. “My point still stands,” He said.

Pidge looked off at the desert’s starry horizon and chewed her lip. She pushed up her glasses and looked back at Lance. “Fine,” she said. “Let’s go.”

Abandoned Shack, Antelope Lake, Nevada  
12:18  
June 17th, 2099

Keith peers into his beat up mini fridge for only a second before closing it again. He’ll have to go outside today. Trudging to the door, he cracks his fingers. Unlike the rest of the room, the metal handle of the door is cool, almost uncomfortably so. He pushes the door open. He hasn’t even taken a step outside yet and his eyes already burn. He takes a step outside, his hand shielding his eyes.

As he reaches his hoverbike he pulls his bandana out of his pocket and wraps it around his face. He doesn’t need anyone to know the ‘school dropout’ still hangs around the area. That’s why he chose this place. Well, the exclusivity and the fact there was already a shack here. 

Antelope Lake isn’t a lake, it’s a large stretch of sand between two mountains roughly in the shape of a lake. Nobody’s out there but Keith. Most wouldn’t like the isolation, and deep down neither does Keith. But he’s used to being alone.

He turns the key in the ignition and revs the engine. It’ll be awhile until he reaches Goldfield. Until then it’s just miles upon miles of sand and rocks. The sand and the heat of the desert are the least of Keith’s problems.

His hoverbike putters to a stop next to Goldfield’s general store. The store clerk that takes the ten dollar bill from his hand is the first person Keith has seen in two weeks. He leaves with bread and canned food in his arms and puts it into the trunk of his bike, and glances at the local firework store. “Might as well,” he thinks idly. A few minutes later he returns to the general store’s parking lot with firecrackers and other minor explosives. Keith hikes a leg over the seat of the bike and drives off towards Florence Hill. 

About halfway there, Keith slams the brake down. He’s sweating. His mouth is dry, and he’s breathing heavy. Something is coming. Something is calling him, across the barren desert. But it doesn’t say ‘right now,’ it says ‘soon,’ an open message that feels like it’s indirectly for Keith. ‘be ready,’ it says. Keith closes his eyes. Is he dreaming? Keith has always been different from others, been more susceptible to energies others can not feel, but lately he’s been wondering if it’s all cabin fever. The crazy orphan unable to cope. He takes a breath and thinks back to what Shiro used to tell him. He opens his eyes.

Five things Keith can see. His bike’s handlebars, a dirt road, the sky, sand dunes, and mountains in the distance. Four things he can feel. His dirty gloves, his jacket tightly strained around his shoulders, his boots against the pedals, his bandana around his face. Three things he can hear. His bike’s engine, currently slowing down. The wind carrying sand through the desert, and an animal far away. Two things he can smell. Gasoline and dust. One thing he can taste. His morning breath that he never bothered to take care of. Gross.

He rubs a thumb against the inside of his fingers. He’s grounded now. Focused on what’s real and what’s now. He starts his bike again, and makes his way to his shack.

 

The Galaxy Garrison Institute, Near Amargosa Valley, Nevada  
13:37  
June 17th, 2099

The Garrison infrastructure is not designed with the feeling of comfort in mind. Vast, stainless steel walls in colors of whites and greys, reaching up 30 feet where it meets the ceiling, adorned with pipes, vents, beams, cameras, and fluorescent lights beaming down cold blue onto the classroom below. The quiet hum of machinery in the distance. A projector, flashing images onto the front board while the sounds of keyboards taking center stage of it all.

Lance tapped a pen cap against his desk. He stared at the clock. He shifted in his seat, and glanced back at Hunk. Pidge’s seat was vacant; it had been all day. Hunk and Lance had stayed with Pidge until the early morning working on a plan to get more information from the Garrison. 

Hunk had suggested a bug, though Pidge worried they’d be looking for one as standard procedure. While they were talking, Lance had been playing arcade games on his laptop. Frowning, Pidge turned her attention to him in desperation. She began to chew her lip again. Lance’s laptop was a hodgepodge of stickers, pencil markings on the sides, with papers and post-its resting on the bottom of the screen.

“Lance,” Pidge asked, “If the garrison saw your school laptop like that they’d take it away from you.” She glanced at the top where a pride sticker laid top center. She pulled a face and reached for the corner. “Lance, you can’t even use your webcam like this, it’s covered by a flag-” Lance swatted her hand away.

“Don’t touch that! I know everyone wants to get a candid look of Lancey Lance, but they’re only getting it with my consent.” Lance crossed his arm defensively.

“What are you talking about?” Hunk asked.

“The school owns these computers, y’know? So, like, if they wanted to see through my camera’s they could at any time! My abuela read about it in the paper. She told me to cover my webcam.”

“That’s it. Lance, you’re a genius!” Pidge was delighted.

“What? I mean, yeah, of course, but uh, what led to that revelation, Pidgey?” Lance asked, turning to Hunk and Pidge.

Hunk grinned, suddenly understanding, “If we tap into the webcam and microphone on Iverson’s computer, we’ll be able to get information. It wouldn’t be a physical bug, it would be like a virus!”

But that was last night. Pidge had immediately began coding a virus while Hunk and Lance planned on getting it onto Iverson’s computer. 13:39. Only a minute until class recess. They’d have enough time then. Lance bounced his leg. Hunk’s stomach flipped uncomfortably.

13:40. The bell rang and Lance was out the door only a second late, Hunk closely trailing behind. They reached Pidge’s door and Hunk stopped for a moment.

“Aw, man, we should’ve made like a secret knock to get it, like uh, so Pidge wouldn’t have to hide her stuff before opening the door, y’know? Or maybe not a knock, like a code. We could have code names, too! Like ‘Mother hen is in the coop.’ but I’m not sure who mother hen would be. I mean, I’m kind of motherly to you, but not really to Pidge, and I don’t want to be a hen, so…” Before Hunk went on he looked to Lance for approval.

“Pidge! Open up! We’re alone!” Lance called through the door. Before it slid open though, he looked at Hunk and grinned. “I’m ‘Sharpshooter’, You’re ‘Tank’ and Pidge-” She stood in the open doorway. “-is ‘Gremlin.’” Lance impishly grinned at her. Pidge rolled her eyes and led them inside.

“Uh, wow.” Hunk breathed. There were papers everywhere some were laid out neatly next to her computer while other were crumbled up and tossed, others were covered in highlighter, there was a stack of wrinkled papers with large X’s throughout the text, and about seven had visible coffee stains.

Pidge took in the sight of her own room, as if not seeing it until now. She shrugged dismissively. “I was working,” she said.

“Yeah,” Lance replied. “Sure looks like it.” He took a better look at her face. “Did you sleep at all last night? Did you shower? That’s not good for your skin. And have you only had coffee? You need food, and water, and-”

“I need to find my family.” Her mouth puckered up to her nose and the squinted and the papers fuming. “If you’re going to try and slow me down then you should just go.”

The room became very quiet.

“You’re family?” Hunk asked, “What does your family have to do with the Kerberos mission? Pidge, is your family involved somehow? Are they- are they in trouble?” 

“I…” Pidge floundered, opening and closing her mouth, one arm akimbo with the other one gesturing wildly. She looked back at the papers almost humiliated. Hot tears began to pour down her face, to the bottom of her chin, and landed on some loose pages. She clumsily descended to sit on the floor, Lance and Hunk quick to lean down to her.

“Hey, Pidgey, it’s okay,” Lance said, taking Pidge into a tightly wound hug. Hunk cooed at her while rubbing circles into her back.

“It’s not okay.” Pidge cried into his shoulder, trembling as if she were cold. Her breaths her muffled by Lance’s shirt. She pulled away.

“Pidge,” Hunk whispered, wiping her tears off her cheek. “Why is your family involved with the Kerberos mission?”

She pressed her lips together tightly and looked at the floor. Her eyes shifted between Hunk and Lance, taking shaky breaths. She decided she should start from the beginning. They were a team. They were her friends. They should know.

“My name is not Pidge Gunderson,” she said. She stared at the papers. “My name is Katie Holt.”

Hunk and Lance stared at her, shell shocked. 

“Your name is Katie…” Hunk looked confused. “You’re a girl? You’re in the Garrison’s boy division.”

Pidge licked her lips and took a breath. “Yes, I’m a girl. Not always, - actually - yes. Always. I’ve always been a girl, I just, I didn’t tell anyone until later, then my name was Katie. Well, not like, suddenly, it happened over the course of a year,”

Lance tilted his head. “You’re a trans girl?”

“Yes! Yeah, there it is. Uh,” Pidge looked around the room. “I faked being a boy because ‘Katie Holt’ is banned from the Garrison, though. Not because of the trans thing. Well, also the trans thing. People aren’t always exactly great about it.” She pressed her lips together.

Hunk looked even more confused. “Wait. What do you mean Katie Holt is banned?”

Pidge gave a lopsided, nervous grin. “You think this is the first time I’ve tried to get some answers? Holt’s don’t give up too easy.” This was going over better than she thought it would. She grabbed the papers that laid next to her laptop. “Well,” She said, holding out the papers to Lance and Hunk. “are you going to proofread my code or what?”

Lance and Hunk took the papers and began to read them over.

Abandoned Shack, Antelope Lake, Nevada  
16:34  
June 17th, 2099

Pidge has people to hold her while she cries. Keith does not. He lays on a dirty cement floor, Staring at the ceiling. He tells himself not to cry, but sometimes it all gets to be too much. Tears well up on his eyelashes and die quickly. 

There is a difference between being alone and being lonely, but Keith’s both. 

He wipes the tears away and tries to get back to work. He has Shiro’s file from when the mission first accepted him as the pilot, and Shiro’s death certificate given to Keith the day after the ‘apparent technological malfunction’ the spaceship had. Why hadn’t anyone been allowed to view the launch? Why did it take 34 hours, 48 minutes, and 52 seconds - Keith was counting - to get an official announcement? His dragged his hands down his face. Pulled his hair back with his hands and tugged at the ends.

Patience yields focus. Go back to that day, no matter how bad it hurts. Something is there. Shiro had been acting… odd that day. He seemed untrusting. Keith should have said something then. He should have asked. But if what Shiro knew was bad enough to get his death faked by the Garrison, he probably would let Keith know about. Shiro would’ve felt like it was his job as Keith’s brother to protect him. That thought made Keith sick to his stomach. The idea that Shiro knew something absolutely terrible and couldn’t tell Keith. That Shiro was not his usual self that last time Keith saw him. Saving Shiro would be Keith’s reparation for the damage done that day. Keith stared at Shiro’s death certificate on the wall. Shiro wasn’t dead. Keith wouldn’t let him be. He read it over for the thousandth time.

Takashi Shirogane  
Born: February 29th, 2072 in Chicago, Michigan  
Died: March 14th, 2099 (Age 27) over the coordinates 36.633960, -116.260586

Keith stared at the page, fixated on the coordinates. That couldn’t be right. Those coordinated placed the ship explosion a bit to the east of the Garrison. The official announcement said they had lost contact with the ship and that it probably burn up as it went down. Why would they know where it crashed? Keith looked at his map of Nevada to figure out where those coordinates would be. His blood went cold. Just over 10 miles from the Garrison. They would’ve been able to find it. It was impossible for them not to find it. He shook angrily. What was there? Why that coordinate? Why place a coordinate into a document when they could just write if off as undefined?

That coordinate, that’s where the voice is coming from. The one that tells him ‘soon,’ he knows it. Keith looked around the shack desperately. He needed to be prepared. His body screamed for him to run there immediately but his brothers voice spoke above it all.

“Patience yields focus.”

He’d wait. Think before acting. He would prepare and be ready to strike. He needed to scope out the place. Ready an escape plan, come in with protection. He was getting his brother back. He didn’t care how. Keith ripped the map off the wall and circled the destination. He sketched a path he could take to it without being seen. Put small explosives and firecrackers on the floor next to the map and started to plan everything out. 

The Galaxy Garrison Institute, Near Amargosa Valley, Nevada  
17:49  
June 17th, 2099

Lance stood just outside Iverson’s door.

“Alright. You remember the plan?” Pidge said into Lance’s earpiece.

“Yes,” Lance mumbled, “don’t ask me questions, I can’t respond to you without Iverson seeing.”

“It’s go time.” Pidge said, with a ‘Good luck!’ from Hunk in the background.

Lance pressed the admission request button beside Iverson’s door. It was only a second before the door slid open and walked inside.

“Mcclain, what brings you here?” Iverson eyed Lance.

Lance held up a blue flash drive. “I, uh, was hoping you’d look at a project I’m working on. Tell me if it’s any good before I hand it in.”

Iverson looked disgruntled. “Why exactly did you choose me to proof your project, may I ask?” He had his hand held out for the flash drive, but kept his gaze on Lance.

Lance gave a strained smile as a way to stall “Well, you see…”

“Why not get help from the best person available?” Pidge suggested.

“Why,” Lance steered the flash drive away from Iverson’s open palm and plugged it into the computer, “would I get help from someone else, when the greatest pilot is right here?” His voice raised an octave perhaps a little too high to come off as calm, but Iverson seemed to not notice.

“I suppose you’re right.” Iverson smiled at himself, flattered by the compliment. “Now, let’s see this project of yours.”

A text box opened on the monitor requesting permission to activate the flash drive’s data. Iverson permitted and watched it download. He arched an eyebrow.

“An odd file size for a project, hmm?”

“Ha! Well, y’know,” Lance laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. He watched as the file finished downloading and a fake error message went on screen.

“System failure. Unable to read this document.   
Accept | Cancel” The message read.

“Whoops, heh, silly me! Guess I messed something up while transferring it of my laptop! I’ll just take that.” Lance clicked ‘Accept’ and swiped the drive out of the computer and backed away from the desk, striking finger guns at Iverson. “Sorry for wasting your time! I’ll get out of your hair now. I mean, your bald. That doesn’t make sense. So-”

“That’s quite enough, Lance!” Iverson said with his hand raised. “You’ve taken up enough of my time. It’s best if you leave. And please, don’t come back.” Iverson looked tired.

“No problemo, Iverson! See you tomorrow during class,” Lance said before the doors closed in front of him, leaving him alone in the hall.

“It downloaded?”

“Yeah,” Lance answered, walking back to his room. “What if he deletes the file, since he thinks there was an error?”

“It’s too late,” Pidge said into Lance’s ear. “The virus acts as a modification. It attached itself the computer’s microphone as soon as the error message was accepted.”

“This is kinda cool. I’m like a secret agent spy, saving the world, kissing hot babes,” Lance grinned and began to daydream a Bond lifestyle.

“Whatever pipedream makes you happy, Lance. Hurry back to my room, we can activate the microphone channel and start listening in.” Pidge said.

Abandoned Shack, Antelope Lake, Nevada  
02:17  
June 18th, 2099

Keith has stopped to look at his map for the tenth time now. It’s almost ridiculous of him to do so, considering there’s no way to really know where he is right now. He started out in a place surrounded by sand and rocks, right now he’s in a place surrounded by sand and rocks, and soon (hopefully) he’ll be in a place surrounded by sand and rocks. There are no signs or roads. No way to tell where he is. He’s telling himself that the map helps, though. He needs something to count on. He’s been forced to count on himself these past couple of months. He pushes those thoughts away.

Almost an hour passes when he finally spots the 95 in the distance. It’s one of the only roads anywhere near here, and connects almost all the towns. If he were to get on the 95, he’d pass the Garrison.

He doesn’t get on the 95.

Keith, instead, follows it loosely, riding just out of sight of anyone in Amargosa Valley. In between two large sand dunes, he brakes and starts walking.

36.633960, -116.260586.

It’s dark. That’s how it is at 2 a.m., but the point is there isn’t anything at the coordinates. At least, there doesn’t look to be. But that’s suspicious too, Keith supposes. There’s supposed to be the remains of a crash.

The desert gets cold at night, and Keith dresses like a teenager would dress without an adult’s supervision. (read: Like he only shops at closing thrift stores and Dick’s Sporting Goods.) The cold air nips at his nose and cheeks. There’s sand in his mouth. He takes the bandana out of his back jean pocket and ties it around his head, covering the lower half of his face. He begins to walk gingerly down the sand dune and starts to examine the grounds more carefully. As he searches, and his search turns up dry, he thinks that this was a dead end. A random coordinate chosen to bring public closure. As he stands to leave, he hears an engine in the opposite direction of the 95. He ducks behind a shrub, realizes he’s way too big to hide behind a shrub, and clambers his way over a 10 foot sand dune. Keith raises his chin to gaze over the tip of the dune.

It’s a jeep with the Galaxy Garrison’s insignia plastered the spare wheel’s cover. The jeep is parked about 20 some odd feet away. Keith pulls a camera out of his utility belt as four figures pile out of the car and begin walking closer. One of the men is carrying a misshapen duffel bag. As they get close to Keith, the man opens the duffel bag and starts to pull out what looks to be bent and broken metal, singed and burnt. They were planting evidence. Raising the camera’s shutter over the dune, Keith quickly snaps a photo.

The flash goes off, and Keith’s blood runs cold.

The Garrison men previously planting crash remains now stand with guns brandished, quickly moving in on Keith. Keith, though previously having a premeditated plan, is now forced to go back to his roots and act rashly. He stands, pulls out his dagger, and charges the men.

He’s brought a knife to a gun fight, and it goes just about as well as you’d imagine. He swipes at one man’s arm, and clocks him in the jaw. But as this happens, the other three men are on Keith, talking him down, and eventually ripping the knife from his hands. Keith sees distant headlights of cars on the 95 and he screams as loud as he can, but his mouth is then covered by hands, then a cloth. He struggles, kicking and shaking, and feels a sharp pinch at the nape of his neck.

He no longer struggles.


	2. ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge, Hunk, and Lance get some needed information and Keith wak

The Galaxy Garrison Institute, Near Amargosa Valley, Nevada  
2:33  
June 18th, 2099

Hunk, Lance, and Pidge sit knee to knee and shoulder to shoulder in front of Pidge’s computer. On the monitor is a video feed of Iverson’s PC webcam. Pidge has her headphones on, but takes both hands to pull the muffs about an inch from her ears; close enough for Hunk and Lance to hear, but not loud enough for anyone to hear things from outside the room. In Hunk’s hand is a clipboard, covered in notes from what they’ve seen so far. Lance sits, readily holding a blanket to cover the computer in case someone walks in.

Hours into this session, when their hope is worn, and their eyes are sunken, an unseen person enters Iverson’s door alongside Iverson himself. Iverson sits in his chair gazing intently at the unknown person just out of view of the webcam. Iverson laces his fingers together and rests his chin on top of them.

“Now, what is it you’d like to tell me?” He asked, sounding irritated. Hunk, Lance, and Pidge all leaned in closer to the laptop.

“Unit seven was attempting to complete phase five of our operation at the set crash location, but while they were out there a civilian was caught spying and was apprehended.”

“Oh?” Iverson said, looking intrigued, “Have you identified this civilian?”

“He had no I.D. on him, but one of the scientists at the hub recognized him to be a former Garrison pilot student. Said his name was Keith Kogane.”

“Keith?” Lance yelled, his voice rising two octaves.

“Who the heck is Keith?” Pidge asked. Lance opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by a hush from Hunk. Hunk wordlessly repointed the attention to Iverson’s conversation.

“Keith Kogane had connections to the Kerberos pilot. His records show no family or emergency contacts, so we don’t have to worry about people looking for him.” Iverson looked thoughtful. “Keep him detained with the others until we can reconvene. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”

Outside of the webcam’s frame they could hear a door being open and shut. Iverson grabbed some files from the cabinet behind him and left the office a few minutes later. Pidge took off her headphones and let them sit around her neck loosely. She looked at Lance.

“Who the heck is Keith?” She repeated.

“Mullet brain? Keith Kogane; he’s a dropout, and he’s the worst. He acted like he was better than everyone else just because he got better grades. I tried to be his friend but he was just a jerk all the time.” Lance crossed his arms.

Pidge looked over to Hunk who then threw his hands up defensively. “One time I asked Keith to pass me a wrench and he did. That’s the only interaction we’ve had, so. Lance is the Keith-expert here.”

“I am not an Keith-expert, I’m a jerk-expert.”

Pidge sighed and gazed back at her monitor. “Iverson said Keith had connections to the pilot of the Kerberos mission. Maybe that’s why he was spying on the Garrison at the crash location. Maybe he’s looking for answers too.”

“Wasn’t the pilot Takashi Shirogane? Did you know him?” Hunk asked.

“I met him once or twice, yeah, but I never got to know him that well. Being a space pilot is a busy job.” Pidge said offhandedly. The furrowed her brows. “Keith is being detained. The Garrison has a detainment center? Like a jail? Where would that be?”

“I don’t think the Garrison has a detainment center, I think the Garrison is just… kidnapping people. Like the Men in Black or something.” Lance said.

Hunk carded through the papers Pidge had laid around the room until he came across one that he held up. “36.633960, -116.260586, right? Those are the coordinates of the crash, that’s where Keith was detained. Maybe if we stakeout the place we can see the Garrison units out there. We can follow them back to where they came from, and maybe they’ll lead us to where Keith is.”  
“Look at my guy Hunk, being all smart and junk.” Lance teased. Pidge smiled at the two of them and nodded. “Alright, big guy,” Lance said. “Looks like you just came up with our game plan.”

“But first,” Pidge was suddenly very serious, but quickly shifted into a grin. “I need to sleep for 10,000 years.”

 

36.633960, -116.260586  
5:03  
June 18th, 2099

White. The sound of fluorescent light pouring into the room. A beaker softly bubbling.

Keith is usually quick to consciousness. On his toes; wide awake from 5 a.m. to 2 a.m. But as he lays, staring up at the paneled ceiling, he can hardly grasp a coherent thought. He blinks and tries to sit up, but his arms and legs are too heavy to lift. He looks down at his body and finds that he is strapped down to a gurney at his wrists and ankles. Keith takes this information in passing, still dazed. Turning his head, effectively giving him a wave of motion sickness, he looks over to a man in a hazmat suit. The man has his back turned from him.

“My knife where,” Keith mumbled in perfect english.

The man turns to him, and quickly tightens Keith’s restraints. He presses a telecom panel on the adjacent wall and speaks into it saying, “He’s awake and responsive. Sending him down to Unit 647.” 

Keith is beginning to catch wind of his situation. He shifts on the gurney, becoming more agitated the longer he writhes. The man ignores him and disappears from his vision; Keith assumes he is now the one pushing the gurney out the doors and into the next chamber. The movement hits Keith with another wave of nausea. The fluorescent lights are too loud. He squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his teeth.

After a few moments the gurney stops and Keith feels the cuffs holding him down becoming loose. He doesn’t have enough time to break free, though, before being held still by several men. He opens his eyes and sees a large corridor in front of him, with fortified doors running along the sides. The man previously pushing Keith’s gurney presses a pin number into the control panel next to one of the barricaded doors. As it opens, the men holding Keith pick him off his feet and carry him inside the opened room.

He’s thrown in, and the door is quickly shut behind him. On all fours, he surveys the room surrounding him. The air is thick with bleach. There is a small toilet next to a narrow mat on the floor, presumably his new bed. In the corner of the room on the floor is a small bloodstain. One lone fluorescent bulb, with bars surrounding it, acting as protective fencing.

There is no heat, no windows. He places a hand to his hip; no knife. Looking down at himself he sees himself in something akin to a hospital robe, made of thick felt cotton, hemmed with plastic bracing, and held together by knotted string. He is clean, free of the desert dirt and sand the covered him as he drove just hours ago. His hands feel light and ginger without his gloves. The concrete floor is cold on his bare feet. His head feels lighter, though that may just be the concussion. He goes to rub the back of his neck, and feels no hair. His hand lifts up his scale, to find his hair is cut down to about an inch long, his fringe no longer touching his eyes. 

He stands, a turns back to face a new door which opens to a narrow corridor. Keith steps through, dazed, and traces the wall with his fingers lightly as he walks down the hall. Another door, with a lock on Keith’s side, stands at the end of the hall. Keith undoes the lock, slowly turns the knob, and opens the door.

Inside is a room much larger than his chamber, with stainless steel panelling in place of concrete, several lights placed orderly around the room, yet all still covered in gridded bars. The room has 12 tables, all seated with different people of ages and looks. Some look far from human. Many see Keith, and soon all eyes are on him. But Keith is interested in one person, seated in the near middle of the room, quietly eating peas.

“Commander Holt?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short but I wanted to let you know I haven't forgotten about this! I just have a lot on my plate right now, but I have the plot for the next ~10 chapters written down so I know where to go with this, promise.


	3. iii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith gets some answers and makes an impulse decision. Hunk, Lance, and Pidge find their way to the crash site and do some investigating

Somewhere Near Amargosa Valley, Nevada  
5:10  
June 18th, 2099

The garrison trio are out onto the desert plane, walking towards the location of the crash. Hunk is pensive, looking over his shoulder every few minutes, believe he’d see people rushing towards them. It would take a little under 3 hours just to reach the crash site, considering they were traveling on foot from the school.

They walk in silence. Lance glances over to Pidge constantly, trying hard to figure what she’s thinking. She’s expressionless. Lance has been watching for awhile now and she still hasn’t blinked.

Lance is a bit scared as to what they may find. What if it’s all just ship wreckage? Can Pidge really handle seeing that? Can he?

36.633960, -116.260586  
5:15  
June 18th, 2099

Sam Holt stares at Keith and a million questions are answered while a million questions are created. Keith only knew the commander in passing. Sam Holt was his brother’s coworker and Keith wasn’t one to try and get to know others, especially if he didn’t have to. Even so, the tremendous relief of seeing Sam alive was like a punch to the gut for Keith. What was worse is that Sam seemed to understand. He stood from his food and pulled Keith in for a tight hug.

“I’m so glad to see you alive,” Keith said. “Where is… how long…”

Sam pulled away from the hug to look Keith in the eyes.

“Before any questions, why don’t you sit down? You look dizzy.” Sam pressed on Keith’s shoulders, placing him down onto a chair. Sam took back his seat in front of his meal and pushed some food towards Keith. Keith ignored the gesture and had his eyes locked on Sam, like Sam would disappear if he looked away.

“This is where you’ve been?” Keith didn’t even feel his mouth move as he asked. It didn’t feel like he was saying it either. It felt like a dream. He pressed a fingernail into his wrist and took the pain as proof of his situation’s reality.

“More or less… every once and awhile I’m, well, let’s say transported to a different facility where I run experiments and develop machinery for the Garrison. I am here, though. Most of the time.”

“The Galaxy Garrison makes you work for them?” It wasn’t really a question, more of a disbelief.

“Yes. Now, as much as I’d like to believe you could go on for ages asking about me, you’re probably wondering where Shirogane is.” Keith guiltily nodded his head.

“Now, that’s a bit tricky. He’s alive, at least, he is according to gossip. In this facility, too.” Keith breathed clearly for the first time in a long time. “But uh, Keith… he may not be the same anymore. The things people say, well… he’s like a super soldier. I hear he can take 10 men. People around here who are disciplined say it’s Shirogane that carries it out. That he’s like a robot while doing it, taking orders and all. That he has this blank look in his eyes.”

“I don’t care. Sam, I appreciate the warning, but I will never turn back on my brother. Not when I’m this close to having him back. Not when he needs me this much.”

Sam just nodded, like he already expected Keith to say that. “Alright,”

Keith pushed the bowl back to Sam, and Sam finished his meal while Keith stared at the wall to his right. There was a guard standing in front of a hall marked ‘Disciplinary Center and Rehabilitation.’ He stood and looked among the crowd, until he found someone around his height and stature. Walking up, he winced at the man he was not in front of.

“I’m real sorry about this,” Keith said, clocking the guy just a moment later. The guy stumbled, cursing. Cradling his jaw, he looked at Keith with wide eyes.

The guards were on Keith in seconds. They grabbed him by the shoulders and lifted him of the ground, carrying him off to the hall. Keith looked at Sam once more before being carried out. 

“I’ll get him home. I’ll get you home too,” Keith called.

 

Somewhere Near Amargosa Valley, Nevada  
8:27  
June 18th, 2099

Finally, finally, they were nearing the site of the crash. Pidge almost broke into a sprint, but Lance had a tight grip.

“Are you crazy? Only some sort of impulsive idiot would just run in like that. We need to scope out the place, y’know? Get some vibes.”

“What kind of vibes?” Pidge asked Lance.

“Like ‘Iverson’s murderer face I’m gonna die vibes’ or ‘Miss Kacey is gonna give us astronaut ice cream today vibes,’ right? Vibes that let you know if we’re going towards a good thing or a bad thing.” Hunk supplied.

“Yes, thank you Hunk! Just like that. Vibes.” Lance was acting pretty calm for a kid who was miles away from where he was supposed to be, doing things that basically doubted the integrity of his superiors. Pidge informed him of this.

Hunk jumped to Lance’s defense, “Lance is still right, though, overly calm or not. We need to know what we’re getting into.”

Pidge pressed her lips and looked unimpressed at Lance’s smug face. “Alright, I have binoculars in my bag. We can climb onto a sand dune near here and uh, check out… another… sand dune…” Pidge said, finding this to be a bit innocuous.

“Sounds great,” Lance said. He suddenly looked delighted. “Sands great” he reprimanded, only to receive groans from both Pidge and Hunk.

Looking at the crash site from the sand dune didn’t turn up much. There was no people, just sand for miles.

“There’s nobody around. Let’s get closer and look for clues.” Pidge suggested.

Lance snorted at her. “Look for clues? Who are we, Scooby Doo and the Mystery Gang?”

“I’m Fred.” Hunk called dibs.

“What? Are you kidding? I’m Fred.” argued Lance as the three walked towards the crash.

“Nah, you’re like, Daphne or something. Or like Shaggy minus the food stuff.”

“That’s his whole character, though.”

“He’s more than just food,” Hunk interjected. “He’s willing to stand up to things that he fears just to hang out with his friends, he’s funny, and can be extremely reasonable. He’s just not treated right by the writers.”

“Can we stop talking about Scooby Doo for a couple seconds?” Pidge asked. “I think I found something.

Among the scrap metal were tire tracks and footprints indicating multiple people. Pidge followed them until she reached a large piece of iron sheet metal where the footprints stopped. 

“Hunk, can you push this over for me?” Pidge asked. Hunk nodded and walked over. Cracking his knuckles first, he slipped his fingers underneath the sheet and lifted it up, heaving it over to the side. What was once underneath the sheet was now revealed, a large valve sunken into the sand gleaming in the sunrise light.

“This is some conspiracy shit,” Lance laughed, though his adrenaline was running wild. If they open this valve and see what’s under, they’re officially enemies of the Galaxy Garrison. Heck, they’re enemies of the Garrison right now just by coming over here and exposing it. And yet, Lance was the first to lean down and put his and on the valve.

“Left-y loose-y, right?” He said, somewhat awkwardly, before turning it. Once he felt the valve’s relief he began to pull up, Hunk and Pidge quickly coming to help. Under the valve was a ladder and a short and narrow corridor. 

Barely fitting in the corridor, Pidge stopped them before they went any further.

“Why don’t we set up some sort of a fail safe while we’re here?” She said, pulling out her phone. “I’ll set up a timer that sends an alert to the police with our location if we don’t turn off the alarm in time.” She set the timer. “Alright. Now, we can walk towards our possible deaths.”

Pushing their way into a small elevator, the closed the door and pressed one of three buttons on the panel.

‘Down.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man oh man have I not updated in a while. Sorry! I'm not even gonna say I've been busy cause I haven't  
> It's summer now so you can expect a lot for frequent updates. I have the entire thing planned out, I just have to write it. Which sucks.

**Author's Note:**

> i also have a tumblr blog for this where ill be posting the fanfic as well as some art and i can answer questions : https://vld-uprising.tumblr.com/
> 
> i will not being giving away my name or my regular blog username. 
> 
> please leave comments and critique my work!


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